I catch it but
it will not stay;
this thing that
slips away so
easily–like sand
it cannot hold itself.
The red-haired boy
becomes a son,
becomes a brother,
becomes a friend,
becomes a lover,
becomes a husband,
becomes a man.
With him–
a smile is
everything.
He loves words
and so he married
an East-Coast girl;
they keep to
themselves–
blue on blue.
The cowboy who went to sea
taught us everything–
Devil Dogs,
Yankee Doodles,
Umberto’s Pizza,
Big Blue,
Bohack’s sneakers,
Zeusgazette.
Who writes poems about such things?
And so we fight,
and so we pray,
and so we believe;
he will defeat the
long slow thing
that wants him for itself,
our red-haired boy
whom we so love.
rlmcdermott 